Chapter Nine

Andy followed Della to another nightclub, where she strolled up to the doorman and began to flirt. Andy watched in disbelief. The doorman didn't mind, even blushing as she tickled his face with the boa.

Andy could only shake his head. This was not Della as he knew her. Not at all. And somehow he had a hard time believing even Perry would want her to pull a stunt like this.

He grabbed his radio, contacting the station. "Hi, Dennis," he greeted when a harried fellow Homicide Lieutenant answered. "What are you doing playing desk sergeant?"

"I'm not," Dennis sighed. "He stepped away for a minute and I was walking by when your call came through. What do you want, Andy?"

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Tragg," Andy said. "Is he still there?"

"Yeah, he should be. Just a minute." Dennis left and after a moment Lieutenant Tragg came on.

"Andy? What the devil's going on? It's late for you to be checking in, isn't it?"

"It's also late for Della to be kicking up her heels at nightclubs!" Andy retorted.

"Eh?" Andy could just picture Tragg's look of disbelief. "If she and Perry want to go out painting the town red, that's none of our business."

"That's just it, Lieutenant—Perry isn't with her! And she isn't acting like herself."

"Well, how's she acting?" Tragg still didn't sound that impressed or interested.

"She's wearing a blonde wig and flirting with every man she encounters. She . . ." Andy flamed red. "She even kissed me."

"What?! Andy!"

"I didn't encourage her!" Andy exclaimed. "And she's even insisting she isn't really Della Street!"

"What if she isn't?" Tragg countered. "You know how you and Amory Fallon could be twins."

Andy sighed. "Alright, you have a point," he conceded.

"Did she give you any other name?"

"No, she didn't." Andy frowned. "And there's something else about her, Lieutenant. She's wearing an emerald necklace. It's something to see; there must be five or six large emerald pendants all in a row."

"Andy, are you sure?" Suddenly Tragg sounded interested.

Andy was baffled. "Yes. Why?"

"Sergeant Brice was telling me about the case he and Lieutenant Drumm are working on. It has something to do with an emerald necklace. But it's supposed to be locked up in Perry's safe!"

"Then that woman has to be Della, if that's the same necklace!" Andy cried. "She must have taken it out of the safe and decided to wear it! But . . . why is she acting like . . . like that? She's the farthest thing from a femme fatale. I don't like seeing her act like one."

". . . Maybe we'd better look into this," Tragg said slowly. "I'll go find Brice and ask him to describe the necklace. You keep watching Della or whoever that woman is."

"And if Brice says the necklace looks like that?"

Tragg was silent for another moment. "Then we'd better call Perry."

xxxx

Perry wasn't unused to being awakened at the most ungodly hours of the night, but that still didn't mean he liked it. He grimaced as the ringing of the telephone dragged him out of the world of sleep and into the reality of his darkened bedroom. He groped for the receiver, squinting as he tried to keep hold of some level of drowsiness. "Hello?"

"Hello, Perry," said Lieutenant Tragg. "I'm afraid I have some strange news for you."

"Strange news? How?" Perry woke up more. Of all people to often call him in the middle of the night, Tragg was not at the top of that list.

"Andy saw a flirtatious woman out nightclubbing. He thinks it's Della. She denies it, but she's wearing an emerald necklace that Sergeant Brice says matches the description of one you're holding in your safe."

Perry's stomach dropped. "That's impossible!" he gasped. "It's still in the safe. Della wouldn't have any reason to take it!"

"I can't imagine she would either, Perry, but I thought you'd like to know."

"Is Andy still following her?" Perry asked.

"Yeah. She's in some nightclub with a 1940s theme, Play It Again, Sam or something like that. If I were you, I'd check the safe."

"And then what would you do, Lieutenant?" Perry asked. He was already throwing back the covers to get out of bed.

"I'd get on over to the Play It Again, Sam Club," Tragg replied gravely.

xxxx

Perry's mind and heart were in turmoil as he drove to the Brent building. They had just started hoping Della's problem was contained at Manzana Valley Prep School. Had that hope been premature? Was it the necklace after all? Or had Ellena really been at the school and had left with Della instead of staying behind when Della left? It seemed too much of a coincidence that someone looking like Della would be wandering around with an emerald necklace if it wasn't Della.

He parked out front instead of going around to the parking garage. As one of the tenants, he had a key to one of the doors, which he quickly used to slip inside. Soon he was on the elevator, going up to the ninth floor. It was a journey he made almost every day. Many times he spent the elevator rides deep in thought about cases and how to prove his clients innocent. But even during the grimmest of those cases, he hadn't felt as torn as he did now.

He had tried calling Della on the way over, of course. She hadn't answered. That only further pointed to what seemed to be the truth, a truth that he was still desperately fighting against.

The elevator doors opened and he strode out, hastening to suite 904. In less than a minute he had unlocked and opened the doors and was arriving in the law library.

His heart gathered speed as he turned the dial on the safe, working its combination until the last tumbler fell into place and the door could be opened. The sack was still inside, just as it had been left. He reached for it, taking it out and pulling the necklace out from the bottom.

So it was still there. He stared at it, not sure what to make of the development. That meant that it wasn't Della in the nightclub, didn't it? It was all a bizarre coincidence?

One of the earrings had come out with the necklace. He plucked it off and held it up, studying it. Then he lifted the necklace again. The earring seemed to have a greater shine than the necklace. Was there any significance in that fact?

Suddenly an idea occurred to him—a horrible, terrible idea, but one that made sense with the evidence. He shoved the jewelry back into the sack, barely remembering to close the safe behind him as he rushed to the door. He had to get to that nightclub.

xxxx

Perry was in luck; when he pulled up at the Play It Again, Sam Club, Andy was standing outside and leaning on the roof of his car. Sergeant Brice, who had arrived at some earlier point, was standing next to him. Both men were tense, watching the front doors like a pair of hawks.

Perry hurried over to them. "She's still inside?"

They both jumped. "Perry!" Andy exclaimed. "Yes, as far as we can tell, she's still in there."

"What's the deal with the necklace, Perry?" Brice asked in concern.

Perry heaved a sigh. "I'm not completely sure, but I have the terrible feeling that the real necklace was replaced with a copy. I have to get into that nightclub and talk to this woman." He still couldn't quite bring herself to say Della. Not yet, not without seeing her for himself.

"Alright," Andy said, looking relieved to not have to keep standing there. "We'll all go in."

Perry didn't protest. He could see the confusion and concern in the two policemen's eyes. They cared about Della too.

The doorman quickly let the group in when Andy showed his badge. He pleaded, however, for them to not cause a commotion if at all possible. He remembered Sergeant Brice from a recent strange case of Steve's; the club was still suffering a bit from bad publicity generated by the outcome of that case. The group promised they would do their best not to start an uproar, but they couldn't promise what the woman might do.

A singer was belting a big band standard when they entered the main room. Many people were up and dancing, including the woman in question. Andy weaved around tables, leading the others closer and closer until they could clearly see her features. "Well, Perry?" he asked gravely.

Perry could only stare. "Aside from the wig, she certainly looks like Della." He swallowed hard. "And she's wearing the necklace." He reached into the bag, taking out the one he still had.

Brice came over to examine it. "I think these are paste, alright," he said worriedly. "But does that mean those stories Gene Torg and Pearl Chute told were right? An evil spirit is haunting the real necklace?"

"Let's find out," said Perry. Loudly he called, "Ellena!"

The woman jumped a mile and turned. "What the . . . ?" She blanched when she saw Perry, realizing that she had just plunged into a trap. Her first instinct was to turn and run, but Andy reached her first and grabbed her arm.

"I'd think twice about running," he said. "So your name is Ellena, then, and not Della?"

She wrenched her arm away. "That's right," she spat.

"But you're wearing the necklace from my office," Perry said as he stepped forward. "What did you do, have a paste copy made so that no one could sense your presence in the real one?"

Ellena gave him a Look, but her eyes clearly displayed her fear. "Are you trying to say maybe you believe in spirits and hauntings and possession?" she drawled.

"I've been forced to believe that spirits are real and possession can and does happen," Perry replied. "And I don't appreciate you taking over my secretary's body. What have you done with her?!"

"Nothing," Ellena insisted. "I just waited till she was asleep and all. Then I can go have fun and she doesn't know a thing about it!"

"Odd that she doesn't wake up with all the commotion," Perry remarked.

"I don't let her." Ellena stuck her nose in the air. "She doesn't wake up until I say she can. And uh, you know, people are starting to turn and look."

Andy immediately became self-conscious. The last thing he wanted was for the entire patronage of the nightclub to know that they were accusing this woman of being an evil spirit possessing someone's body. "Let's take this outside," he said.

Realizing that she had the upper hand in this situation, Ellena sneered at him. "Why? You're not ready to shout to the world what you think is going on?"

Andy flushed. "You know as well as I do that it isn't something that would be easily believed!"

"Which puts you boys in a spot," Ellena grinned and winked. "Meanwhile, if I make a fuss, I can get everybody in this joint to come rushin' to my aid. I can make them think that you're the bad guys."

Perry's patience had just about unraveled. "Alright, you've made your point. I want to talk to Della now."

Ellena scoffed. "You think I'll just let her take over again? I'm not done having fun yet."

"You're done using Della's body to have your fun!" Perry rumbled over the jazz band on the stage.

"You'll have to take the necklace off of me," Ellena taunted, backing up, "and I'll make sure you never get the chance to get that close."

She backed right into Sergeant Brice, who immediately went for the clasp. "You're right that he probably won't," he said calmly.

She yelped in anger, pulling away and grabbing for the necklace the same time he did. As they strained in opposite directions, the chain snapped in half.

Stunned, Brice drew back the piece he was holding. "Della?" he ventured slowly, hopefully.

Ellena sneered back at him. "Nope. As long as there's any piece of necklace with Della at all, I've got her." And with that she turned, dashing into the crowd.

Perry broke into a run, pushing past baffled and annoyed dancers as he struggled to reach her again. "Della!" he screamed, praying that his voice would somehow get through. There was no answer, and as Andy and Brice chased after Perry, they found with sinking hearts that Ellena was nowhere to be seen.

"There's an exit over here," Brice noticed, turning to the right. He hurried through the door, the others following him. The street outside was empty.

"How could she have gotten away that fast?" Perry berated. "If she came in a cab, then there wasn't a car waiting."

"What if there was?" Andy suggested after a moment. "Sergeant Brice told me about the convoluted case you're working on. Maybe, assuming they're working together, one of these people out to get Dr. Stuart came here to pick Della . . . Ellena . . . her up." He shook his head. It was difficult to think of that woman as Della. Yet when he knew it actually was her, at least her body, he wasn't sure how to refer to her.

"That's possible, I suppose," Perry mused. "We'd better try to find out if she placed any phone calls while she was here."

A quick check with the staff confirmed that Ellena had used the payphone in the lobby. Andy placing a call to the telephone company netted them the information that she had made two calls: one to a small import-export business and the other to Amos Berry's car shop.

"Amos Berry?" Perry said in disbelief. "I wonder if she was calling David Solomon."

"He's definitely mixed up in something," Brice said. "Lieutenant Drumm and I just aren't sure what."

"Maybe we'd better have a talk with him," Andy said. "Someone should visit that import-export office too, though."

"I'll do that, Lieutenant," Brice offered.

"You do that," Andy said with a nod.

"And I'm going to call Paul," Perry decided.

Andy winced. "I'd hate to be Paul tonight."

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind getting woke up at one in the morning when he finds out why," Perry answered. "It occurs to me that since Ellena has been going to such great lengths to establish her identity, perhaps she isn't keeping things like the boa and that wig at Della's apartment."

"You mean that maybe Ellena has set up a home base of her own," Andy said carefully.

Perry nodded. "I'm going to ask Paul to find out if there are any apartments or hotel rooms in town registered to Ellena Fanchon."

"And if there are?" Andy prompted.

"Then Paul should see if she's home, of course," Perry replied with a smile.

Brice shook his head, not commenting as he went back to the squad car he had brought and got in. It seemed so unreal to see Della behaving as she had. He supposed on the one hand he would rather believe that there really was someone named Ellena Fanchon in control of Della's body instead of that Della had simply gone mad. But neither option was pleasant and he couldn't help wondering what it would take to bring back the Della he knew. Was it really as simple as getting her away from all pieces of that necklace?

xxxx

David was working late as usual, just putting the finishing touches on Joe Mannix's car when Perry and Andy strolled in. "David Solomon?" Andy asked, putting on his best businesslike tone of voice.

"Yes," David said warily, rising up from under the hood. He stiffened to see Perry.

"Aren't you working much later than car shops generally stay open?" Perry asked.

David shrugged. "I said I'd stay and get this car ready, since I've been in and out so much of the day. What's going on?"

"That's what we'd like to know," Andy retorted. "Mr. Solomon, I'm Lieutenant Anderson, L.A.P.D." He held out his badge.

"Another cop?" David did not look pleased. "I'm going to know the entire department before long. What do you think I've done now?"

"We happen to know that Ellena Fanchon called this number," Andy said. "We'd like to know why."

David went sheet-white. "Ellena? But she's . . ."

"Currently possessing my secretary's body," Perry said, his voice clipped. "She is part of what's happening, Mr. Solomon, and her telephone call to here makes it look suspiciously like you're part of it as well."

"I'm trying to help Dr. Stuart!" David protested. "I'm not part of any plot to harm him. And I had no idea that was Ellena on the phone. I heard it ringing, but I wasn't in a position to be able to answer it. By the time I got over to it, it had stopped ringing. The I.D. said it was from the Play It Again, Sam Club and that didn't mean anything to me. I thought it was a wrong number!"

"Didn't you try to call the number back and find out?" Andy demanded.

"Yes, I did, but no one answered," David scowled. "So I went back to the car."

"Apparently if you're not involved, Ellena wants to make you involved," Andy said. "Why would she want that?"

"How do I know what she'd want?!" David exclaimed. "She couldn't want to talk to me."

"Why not?" Perry pounced.

"She . . . she doesn't know I'm working here," David stammered. "How could she?"

"Since she's dead, how do we know what she knows?" Perry retorted. "Perhaps she observed you before she possessed Miss Street."

"If she's mixed up with that necklace, then it sounds like she doesn't know anything except what's happening where it is," David said. "And it was lost for years." He turned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I almost have this finished."

"What are you going to do about Ellena?" Perry demanded.

David froze. "What?"

"You said last night that you would try to find her and reason with her," Perry reminded him. "Now we know approximately where she is. Is your word still good?"

"Yes!" David insisted. "I'll find her and I'll try to reason with her. I just can't promise it will do any good. If you know where she is right now, I'll come with you to talk to her as soon as I finish this car. I promised Amos I'd do that too."

"Unfortunately, we don't know where she is right now, other than in Della's body," Perry said grimly. "We hoped that you did."

"Well, I don't," David shot back. "And you can ask that detective that's been watching me too."

"You know he's there?" Andy frowned. "He's supposed to be inconspicuous."

"I knew that Drumm would see to it that I was followed when I left the station," David said. "I knew someone was there, but I didn't see any point in making a fuss over it. I don't have anything to hide."

"Except your true identity," Perry pointed out. "You didn't begin life as David Solomon."

David shook out a greasy cloth. "And that is not your business."

A piece of paper fluttered to the floor with the movement of the cloth. Andy immediately pounced on it. "You dropped this," he said. As the writing caught his eye, he stared at it in disbelief. "This is a threat!"

Stunned, Perry came to look too. "Mr. Solomon, according to this, your life is in danger," he exclaimed. "Perhaps Ellena was calling you to lead you into a trap!"

"She wouldn't," David retorted. But then he paused, really considering Perry's words. "On the other hand, I guess it's possible."

"Of course it's possible. Surely you're not going to continue trying to help Dr. Stuart now," Perry said.

David's eyes darkened. "If you talk to the detective out front, he'll tell you I was wandering around for a good portion of the evening, checking up on all the people I could think of who knew Tobin Wade. I got the threat in the afternoon. Yes, Mr. Mason, I'm going to continue trying to help Dr. Stuart."

"But why?" Andy frowned deeply. "This message proves it's madness!"

"Because Mr. Mason and his friend Mr. Drake are right," David said quietly. "I didn't help him before when I should have. I owe it to him to help him now." He turned again, walking back to the car.

Andy shook his head, staring after him. "I'm going to get this back to headquarters," he said. "I'm sure there won't be any fingerprints on it except his and mine, but I'll have to try anyway."

"You should also assign a second man to watch him, Andy," Perry said. "He's serious about helping Dr. Stuart and whoever sent that is likely serious about seeing he pays for it."

"Ohhh . . . he isn't supposed to take it upon himself to investigate anything!" Andy fumed. "He's just a common citizen."

"And there's a chance Ellena might be ordered to kill him," Perry said gravely. "That absolutely must not happen!"

Andy's eyes flickered with understanding. "Because Della would get convicted for it," he knew. "Perry, I'll do everything I can to make sure it doesn't happen. I just hope Sergeant Brice and Paul are having luck with their assignments."

"So do I, Andy," Perry said. "So do I."

xxxx

The lights were still on at the offices of the Trapezoid Solutions Import-Export Company. Sergeant Brice took a long look at the name, shook his head, and headed for the door. Steve would have a crack to make about the name if he were there. He was on his way now, but he had told Brice to go ahead and go in if he got there first.

The dark-haired man sitting and writing at the table looked up when the door opened. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

"Sergeant Brice, L.A.P.D." Brice held out his badge. "I'm investigating a telephone call that an Ellena Fanchon placed from the Play It Again, Sam Club about thirty minutes ago."

"Yeah?" Instantly the man was defensive. "What's so important about that? She was probably checking on a shipment."

"What was she shipping?" Brice asked mildly.

"I don't have to tell you that without a warrant," the man said smugly.

"I can get one," Brice replied.

"Is she suspected of smuggling something?" The man got up from the table.

"No," Brice answered. "But she's wanted for questioning by the police."

"Too bad. She's not here." The man folded his arms. "And you'll need a warrant if you want to look anyway."

"Alright." Brice turned to head for the door, then paused. "You know, you could be charged as an accessory if you're hiding her here."

"I'm not. Get out, cop." The man waited until Brice was out the door and on his radio. Then he whirled, stomping into the back room. The woman from the docks was there, along with Ellena.

"What is it?" Ellena blinked. "What's the trouble?"

"You're the trouble, Ellena," the man growled. "Thanks to you, the police are onto us! There's a cop outside who's probably getting a search warrant right now."

The woman tensed. "You'd better go out the back way," she told Ellena.

"Hey, if all they want is to question me, they won't find out anything," Ellena protested. "I won't tell them! You know I want this."

"I don't want them to talk to you anyway," the man said harshly. "Get out of here and lay low until that masquerade party. That's just a day or two away."

"Where will I go?" Ellena frowned. "You won't let me go back to my apartment."

"You shouldn't have taken one out!" the man boomed. "Go board with Eliza's sister Iona for a while."

The woman stepped forward, scrawling an address on a piece of notepad paper. "Here. I'll call and tell her you're coming."

Ellena took the paper and studied it. "Well, okay," she conceded. "But just until the masquerade. I wouldn't miss that for the world." She smirked as she looked up. "That's when Aaron Stuart will finally get his."

"Yeah, yeah. Now get going!" the man ordered.

"I'm going, I'm going!" Ellena marched to the back door and opened it, shutting it quietly behind her as she slipped down the dock.

Eliza went to the window in the door to watch. "She's so caught up in wanting revenge on Dr. Stuart, but she also wants to kick up her heels and party," she frowned. "And she knows we're not really in it to avenge Wade's death. I couldn't care less about the man."

"Whatever our reasons, she's not going to spill anything," the man replied. "At least, not until Stuart is dead. And after he's dead and we have what we want from the school, we'd better make sure that Ellena can never rise from the grave again."

"How will you do that?" Eliza turned back to her partner in crime, her brow knit in confusion.

"Easy. I'll get the necklace away from the hapless woman she's possessing. Then I'll dump it in cement and sink it to the bottom of the ocean. Ellena's bound to that necklace for some reason, so she'll be out of our hair forever."

"And what about the woman she's possessing? Maybe she's heard something subconsciously."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I've thought of that. Obviously we'll have to kill her."

The woman turned away, slowly. "Obviously."